


When I Meet You Again

by SoLongAndThanksForAllTheFish



Series: When I Meet You Again [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Long Term Relationship, M/M, Memory Loss, Old Age
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-10
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-28 21:16:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2747372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoLongAndThanksForAllTheFish/pseuds/SoLongAndThanksForAllTheFish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is in the hospital and meets a curious character.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When I Meet You Again

 

John sat himself down carefully on the chair in the corner, the chair that managed to be just in the right position to face the window and also to be able to see the whole room.

He felt hungry, as if it was tea time, but in reality it looked quite bright outside. Lunch maybe? He didn't know anymore, he didn't care. Even though this hospital was very nice and the room seemed very luxurious with various decorations, books and entertaining things for the patients, he just wanted to go home. Maybe Sherlock would be there, why hadn't Sherlock visited him yet? Or better, why didn't he just swing by to pick him up? That was more like him. John felt fine and it was time for another case.

The nurse came in with some nice food, in fact something resembling Chinese food, as far as hospital food could imitate such thing.

“Hello there, Mr. Watson!” The tall woman said smiling a sincere smile. She was a beautiful brunette with curls framing her beautiful face and her dark eyes. John took a second. She was a new nurse, he didn't remember seeing her around at all, and she also looked young, around twenty seven.

“Hello... I am sorry, I don't think we met. Are you new to the hospital?” She set a tray on the table beside him and responded without looking at him.

“This is my second year, but it is quite a big hospital, I might have been treating some other people.” She set the food carefully on a plate. It looked delicious and John was happy for this hospital. Sherlock and his extravagant ways. He was sure it was Sherlock's doing.

“Oh, yes, I assume that is possible... You can call me John, by the way.” He said with a sweet smile.

“I am Helena.” She helped him turn the chair towards the table, ruining the perfect balance... it didn't matter, he could fix it afterwards.

“Thank you very much, Helena. Any news on my case, when will I be able to go home? Is just that I have a flatmate that doesn't do well alone. He is like a five year old.” John chuckled, if she only knew.

“Do you mean Sherlock?”John looked at her with a look of surprise. “It was on your file.” She said quickly and blushed, looking rather guilty.

“Yes, I mean Sherlock, and I suppose he'd be on my file. He is the reason I end up in hospitals all of the time.” He gave her a warm smile and she returned it before excusing herself and leaving the room.

Sherlock never came, probably busy with some case and not trusting that John was good to go at any time, but by the other hand this old man with scars on his arms stopped by for a little, John didn't pay much attention. He was just another lonely patient and even though John had always loved to give the proper attention to older people because he knew one day that would be him, he was too tired and anxious to relax and fall into easy talk with the man, who noticed and left after a little while looking a little bored, like he really wanted to talk to someone and John was probably his fifth try of the day.

 

**

 

After lunch, John was sitting reading a book near the window and thought about texting Harriet, asking her how she was doing, but his phone was nowhere to be found and he decided to just use the one in the room, he was almost sure of her number, but they never really called each other.

It rang once and a child's voice came through.

“Hullo?”

“Hello there, I would like to speak to Harriet Watson?” He heard an adult talking in the background, probably the mom.

“Hello?”John stopped. This wasn't Harriet, even though the voices were alike, as most voices are through the phone.

“I am sorry, I believe I have got the wrong number.” He hung up and sat back down, going back to his book and not remembering in which page he was at, getting lost in thought as soon as he looked out the window to yet another grey day in London. He just wanted to go home and slap Sherlock for not showing up and dragging him out, but there was something that the doctors weren't telling him, something that maybe Sherlock knew and maybe John had cancer or an aneurism and a week to live and Sherlock just didn't have the heart to see him, but truth was, if John only had a week to live, he's like to spend it solving cases and yelling at Sherlock. Maybe, if he really was sick, which was just a situation he set up in his head, maybe he should say these things to Sherlock... but then what? No. Now those were wild thoughts.

 

**

 

John laid in bed after tea time, surfing on the two hundred channels that he had available on the telly, this really was the fanciest hospital, is almost like they wanted you to feel home and not leave them. Which was sick because the point of people coming here was so they could get better and go home sooner, but he felt lured with the television and books and some damn peace and quiet.

“Good evening.” A tall, old man stood by the door.

“Hello. Come in, can I help you?” John smiled warmly.

“I am sorry, my room is along the hallway and I have no one to talk to, I saw you lying there and I thought that maybe...” He seemed embarrassed, but at the same time his poise was just perfect.

“Please, come in! I am so bored, you know what they say, two hundred channels and not one bloody thing to watch.” John tried to make conversation, but the man simply stared at him. Old people did not have the same first-world problems, John thought.

“I wonder if the weather will get better.” The old man said looking at John's face.

“Yes, I believe so, or so the news promised. Bloody liars.” They chuckled.

“Oh, I am not one given for the television, I get bored quite easily with those shows.” The old man remarked and John smiled.

“Are you married? I mean, does any family come to visit you often?”

“Yes, I have been happily married for thirty three years now.” The man was now sitting at the wooden chair just beside the bed and John felt bed, but it would be even weirder if he just offered his bed.

“That sounds wonderful. Found the perfect match then?” Old people loved talking about their loved ones, this should be easy.

“Oh, yes, he is wonderful.” John took a second and the old man seemed to notice, trying to make it easier with another question. “What about you? Is someone your...” he cleared his throat “perfect match?”

“No, not yet, I am still looking. In fact, I came back from Afghanistan not long ago and am taking my time getting used to my normal life again.”

“How old are you?” The old man asked almost cautiously, as if not to offend John, which was comic.

“I am forty.” John smiled. “I know, quite late, but I believe that eventually it will happen.” He hated talking about these kinds of things, but it was such an easy topic with this man that he didn't mind.

“Yes, my husband was about your age when I met him. We had a wonderful life together, built lots.” The man said in a reserved tone, as if more to himself than to John.

“That sounds nice, how did you meet? Work? It is always work these days, people have time for little else.” John tried to keep the information coming, it was nice having someone in.

“He needed help, he was facing some trouble, very much like you... trouble... adjusting, and I have never been very conventional myself. I fell in love with him very soon into our friendship, but I didn't know, I wasn't given to sentiment, never have been really. He took his time, even married someone else for a while, but she just wasn't right and he figured it out soon enough, after that we ended upcoming clean, I thought it was best to have it all out in the open for him to do whatever he wanted with it. In a way I guess I was mad that he hadn't noticed, but I have always been the observant one. He did what he wanted with it. He married me. And we have been together since, I was a detective, he was a doctor, but then we moved to Sussex; only came back here because he got sick.”

“I am so sorry to hear that, Mr. ...” John blushed. “I am sorry, I don't think I asked you your name.”

“My name is Sherlock.” The old man said looking almost hurt. He must have been a famous detective way back when because John noticed that what he really wanted was to be recognized, but that was way before John's time and those were hard expectations to meet.

“That is a nice name, what is your husband's name?” John waited and something crossed Sherlock's face, but it was too fast, he couldn't really tell.

“His name is John.” John looked surprise.

“So is mine! What are the odds...” He smiled, but the old man only sat there staring. “Would mind telling me more of your story? What happened to John?”

“He got sick, as I said, started forgetting things. I didn't want to admit, so I let it slip, but after his sister died and he kept calling her house, that now belongs to her daughter and granddaughter, I decided it was time. Slowly he forgot about our work, then our relationship, he thought we were just friends. He would ask me where his wife was and she had been dead for years. He wouldn't recognize me because I am old.” He stopped and chuckled, but John sensed it was to hide away another kinds of emotions. “Eventually all of our life together was gone, but sometimes he has little lapses and I try to be around as much as I can for those, to get a glimpse of him. I miss him.” John had to contain his own tears and disguise them by clearing his throat and blinking a lot.

“If I may say anything, it is still the man you fell in love with, he is just like Benjamin Button, he is growing younger in mind, but he is still the man that grew to be your husband, the love of your life. He is there. Don't give up on him.” John said almost desperately, he couldn't bear think of the pain this old man was feeling.

“I would never give up on him.” Sherlock smiled.

“Plus, he would never forget your face, you have very distinct cheekbones and features in general.” John said trying to lighten up the mood.

“I hear that quite often.” Sherlock smirked hiding a smile.

“From whom?” John smiled, seeing that he succeeded.

“From him.” Sherlock said and looked up at John, who read expectation in his eyes.

“See, than I am not all that wrong.” He answered brightly. The old man got up and started to leave. “Sherlock?” John called and Sherlock turned quickly, hope written all over his face. “I am sure that your life with him was worth what you too are going through right now. If you ever need to talk to anyone, you can come to my room, I mean, until I go home, but then I can come and see you.” He stopped surprised at himself. “I am sure he loves you very much, but just like you in the beginning, he doesn't know.” Sherlock nodded and whispered a weak “goodnight John.” Leaving the room.

In the hallway Helena was standing, pity and pain written all over her face.

“Helena.” Sherlock acknowledged her.

“How was it today?” She asked, knowing that by his face the answer was the usual.

“The usual. A few different things, but just more of the same.” He said leaning against the wall and feeling like he could light a cigarette just about now.

“What was different?” Helena asked leaning beside him.

“He didn't know me at all. He had no clue. Usually he talks about me, how I am home, how I still haven't picked him up, but not today and I have a feeling that not from now on... well, it is nice to see that he grew talkative and emotional with age. Wish I had the chance to mock it.” He said straightening up and watching Helena do the same.

“He loves you, you know? He spoke to me about you a few days ago, he knows you. He loves you Sherlock.” Helena said a bit desperately to help the older man.

“I know. He just told me that.” He gave her a sad smiled and walked away, to his own room just two doors away, to await until a next day to meet John again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading it! If you have any notes please comment, let me know! Let me know what you think.


End file.
